Chapter 68 Shadows Beneath the Hollow Moon
Kier's POV
We moved as a unit down to the motor pool, jackets on, hoods up. The storm outside had softened into a mist. Jaxon met us by the secondary elevator, a duffel over his shoulder and a look that said he’d already planned three ways to evacuate a city block.
“You ok?” he asked Jenna.
“No,” she said. “But I have to do this.”
“Right,” he said, and handed her a slim blade in a plastic sheath.
She startled. “I—no. I can’t.”
“Take it for my peace of mind,” Jaxon said. “If something happens you're not completely defenseless.”
She took it like it was hot. “Okay.”
We split into two vehicles: Jenna with Emma; Jaxon and I in the lead SUV, comms open, every channel alive. I watched the mirrors; Jaxon watched the corners; neither of us spoke for two blocks.
Finally, he said, “When this is over, I'm going to sleep for a week.”
“When this is over, I’m going to run until the city is behind me,” I said.
The hum of the engine was the only sound that didn’t make my skin crawl. Even the rhythm of the windshield wipers sounded off-beat. Every second brought us closer, every streetlight a countdown.
I’d been in missions ten times dirtier than this, with more blood and less hope. But this wasn’t a mission.
Sable’s face kept flashing behind my eyes. Her voice, the way she’d looked at me before my world fell apart. I’d sworn I wouldn’t let another person disappear because of something I couldn’t fix. And now Jenna was walking into a lion’s den because I’d promised her we could pull this off.
The comms clicked softly as Isaac’s voice cut in. “Roof team’s in position. Alley’s clear. We’ve got heat signatures—four inside the main room, two moving in back.”
“Any sign of movement?” I asked.
“Negative. Just the regular noise.”
I nodded, even though he couldn’t see it. “Hold pattern. No one moves till my word.”
Jaxon drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. “You trust her?”
“Who?”
“Jenna.”
I stared out at the street, at the slick reflections of traffic lights bleeding across the asphalt. “She’s a friend of Sables,” I said finally. “And she genuinely wants to help.”
Jaxon made a low sound that might’ve been agreement. “We could use all the help we can get.”
The city began to shift as we neared the old district. The glass and steel gave way to brick and shadow. I’d always hated this part of town.
Isaac’s team checked in again—clean approach, minimal foot traffic. Good. That meant fewer eyes when things went wrong. And they always did.
Emma’s voice came through next, calm but tight. “Two minutes out. Jenna, you’re okay?”
“I'm okay,” Jenna said, but I heard the tremor.
“Look at me,” Emma said. “What's the code word.”
“Hollow Moon.”
“Good. What’s the phrase if you want us to blow the joint?”
“I left the porch light on.”
“Great. What’s your favorite snack?”
Jenna huffed. “This is not the time.”
“Favorite snack.”
“Salt and vinegar chips.”
“Now you sound like you,” Emma said, satisfied.
That tiny exchange broke the tension for a heartbeat. It reminded me why Emma was good at this. She knew how to pull people back to earth.
We turned the last corner and saw it: a narrow facade with a single red light burning steady in a window, the glass fogged from bodies and secrets. A man sat on a stool outside, broad shoulders under a denim jacket, eyes like coins—measuring, weighing.
I parked two blocks back, half-shaded by a delivery truck. Jaxon looked at me once, a check without words. I nodded.
“Emma,” I said. “Walk her.”
“Copy.”
Their car slid into a side slot. Emma got out first, adjusted her umbrella, then walked ahead like a friend leaving another friend behind on purpose. Jenna stepped into the mist and stood alone for a beat, breathing like she was learning how.
“Hey,” I said into the mic, voice barely more than a thought. “You've got this.”
“Copy,” she whispered. “I got this.”
She crossed the street. Each step sounded louder than it should. The door guy watched her come without blinking.
When she stopped in front of him, he raised one brow. “You lost?”
Jenna swallowed. “No,” she said, voice steady. “I’m here for the Hollow Moon.”
The man’s mouth tugged. He knocked twice, slow. The door cracked. Warm bar-noise spilled into the night.
The door opened wider.
I gripped the steering wheel until the leather creaked. “Eyes on her,” I told Jaxon.
“Always.”
I watched through the scope feed—Isaac had eyes from the rooftop camera. The lens caught Jenna framed in neon and rain. She looked small, but her shoulders didn’t shake.
“Porch light,” Emma whispered in her ear.
“I remember,” Jenna whispered back.
And then she went inside.